


gods of the machinery

by orphan_account



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Arachnophobe Jacquelyn Scieszka, Character Death, Deus Ex Machina, During Canon, Gen, Harpoon Guns, Jacquelyn Saves The Day, Lemony Snicket narrates, Light Angst, Multi, Olaf dies because he's a dipshit, R is Jacquelyn, Violence, in this house we stan her, vfd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26019265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Luck" is a concept widely argued over, for philosophers and actors and even sad writers cannot agree easily, but I can tell you this with absolute certainty: being taken in by a vile actor with a vile troupe trying to steal your fortune is extremely bad luck, and the Baudelaire children were very unlucky indeed.But a stroke of good luck came to the Baudelaires as well, and it came in the form of a certain secretary with VFD's mark branded on her shoulder and a harpoon gun that was put to a very good use indeed.In which Jacquelyn Scieszka takes the shot on the SS Prospero, and most things are well.
Relationships: Jacquelyn Scieszka & Klaus Baudelaire, Jacquelyn Scieszka & Sunny Baudelaire, Jacquelyn Scieszka & Violet Baudelaire, background Lemony Snicket/Beatrice Baudelaire/Bertrand Baudelaire
Kudos: 6





	gods of the machinery

This is the sort of story where the villain dies and the protagonists live happily ever after. You may cry, "But Mr. Snicket, that's not realistic!" But I am happy to say that no, for once, it is not. If you would like the kind of story where three plucky orphans live horrible lives then I would advise you to put down this book immediately.

This is a story of something that is called  _ deus ex machina _ , a phrase which here means "something helpful that suddenly and unrealistically appears to defeat some sort of evil, such as the VFD agent who suddenly and unrealistically appeared in the sad situation of the Baudelaires, and defeated the evil Count Olaf.

In this story, the Baudelaires live happily ever after, without fear of an evil man hunting them down.

In this story, Count Olaf is killed before he ruins countless lives.

In this story, there is a  _ happy ending. _

You might think that happiness is never really true. That misery is the natural state of mind.

Perhaps that no story will ever have a happy ending.

But that's not how the story goes.

* * *

If you have been following the unfortunate events of Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire, then you will know how their parents died in a terrible fire, leaving them alone with only each other. You will know how they were sent to live with a terrible man named Count Olaf, and how he tried to marry Violet for their fortune, and how the three plucky children managed to escape his nefarious plans.

You will know how they were sent to live with their Uncle Monty, and how he was murdered by the Count disguised as his assistant, and how they exposed him once more.

But it seemed that the Baudelaires' bad luck had accumulated until even fate could not deny them some happiness. Now "luck" is a concept widely argued over, for philosophers and actors and even sad writers cannot agree easily, but I can tell you this with absolute certainty: being taken in by a vile actor with a vile troupe trying to steal your fortune is extremely bad luck.

But a stroke of good luck came to the Baudelaires as well, and it came in the form of a certain secretary with VFD's mark branded on her shoulder and a harpoon gun that was put to a very good use indeed.

* * *

This story begins, as stories usually do, with a villain. What is unusual about this particular story, however, is that the villain has already been exposed.

Violet, Klaus and Sunny, and Count Olaf and his henchpeople, and Mr. Poe, were assembled in the reptile room of Monty Montgomery as the Baudelaires explained Count Olaf's crimes to Mr. Poe.

"He  _ killed  _ Uncle Monty, with this," Violet finished, brandishing the double-barreled syringe she had put together from the parts in Olaf's suitcase.

"Count Olaf murdered our guardian to get our fortune," Klaus added. 

"Zuoshi!" Sunny exclaimed.

"Yes, you have to do something!" Violet pleaded.

"All right," Olaf snarled. "You found me out.  _ Bravo,  _ children. I admit it. I killed Monty. I also killed his assistant Gustav, I drowned him in the reflecting pond. But this does not stop here, orphans. I will return for your fortune and I will hunt you down. I only need one Baudelaire alive, after all."

"Stop it," Mr. Poe ordered. "We've heard enough from you, you horrible man."

Olaf smiled eerily, a word which here means 'in a terrifying and sinister sort of manner'. "Oh, I am horrible, all right," he said. "The question is, what are you going to  _ do _ about it?"

"Officers, arrest this man-"

The various police officers in the room grinned. Now, I do not know exactly how the Baudelaires felt in that moment. I have been told it is hard to describe. But I can provide you with a simile, though in my opinion similes are far too overused, and it goes, "the three children felt as if they were bleeding in a sea full of sharks". 

It is not pleasant to be bleeding in a sea full of sharks. If you are aware of this, whether by experience as I am or by second-hand knowledge, you will be able to imagine just how the Baudelaires felt.

Mr. Poe gulped. "Oh. You're with him, aren't you? Oh. Oh dear."

"See you soon, Baudelaires," Olaf said cheerily. "Toodle-oo."

And with that, they rushed out of the room.

"Oh dear," Mr. Poe repeated.

" _ Do something!"  _ Klaus shouted. "They're getting aay, you have to chase them down."

"Don't be silly, Klaus, chasing down criminals is a job for the police," Mr. Poe said. "I'll just go and call them, perhaps they can set up a roadblock."

Roadblocks are not usually very useful things, but as you surely know, Mr. Poe was, in the words of Sunny Baudelaire, "beni", a phrase which here means "an absolute and utter idiot".

He bustled away, wiping at his forehead with a handkerchief. "Where is that phone?"

"Beni," Sunny said.

The Baudelaires shared a moment of mutual distaste for Mr. Poe before springing into action, once again proving themselves to be far more capable than the banker in charge of their affairs.

"Come on," Violet said to her siblings, and the three Baudelaires proceeded to run out of the house themselves.

"Baudelaires! Baudelaires! Oh. Oh, dear," Mr. Poe said, for the third time that day.

"Oh, dear" is a phrase that usually means "something has gone terribly wrong and I can find no other way to express their horror". But I am pleased to tell you that Mr. Poe, as usual, was wrong.

* * *

Now unlike Mr. Poe, the Baudelaires were taking matters into their own hands. Of course, you cannot literally take matters into your hands; a "matter" is intangible, and invisible, much like the memories I have of my dearly departed Beatrice and my lost love Bertrand. "Taking matters into your own hands" is a phrase which here means "to deal with a problem yourself because the people who should have dealt with it have failed to do so". 

How I wish that I had taken matters into my own hands so many times in the past! Perhaps if I had taken matters into my own hands I would not be living on the lam, or Olaf would have been in jail long before the series of unfortunate events of the Baudelaires, or the Baudelaire parents would still be alive. But the past cannot be changed, and if I were to tell you of all the things I have done wrong, I would need a series of four books, and another thirteen of hints, and so I will merely tell you of how the Baudelaires took matters into their own hands.

The siblings ran down the driveway, desperately trying to catch up with the van speeding away. But as they ran, a figure appeared at the mouth of the hedge labyrinth outside Monty Montgomery's house, and disappeared once more into the greenery. The two older Baudelaires did not see this, but their younger sister did, and she proceeded to warn them.

"Snoman!" Sunny shrieked.

"Count Olaf?" Klaus asked.

"Maze!"

Violet and Klaus turned to look at the hedges, and saw a long, white, fake beard drift out from the entrance. It was the beard that Olaf had used in his disguise as Stephano, in fact.

"Come on, Klaus, we have to go, we  _ have  _ to catch him!" Violet shouted. She grabbed his hand and pulled him along, running into the hedges.

"Which way did he go?" Klaus asked desperately. "He- he can't just escape again. Not after he killed Uncle Monty. He  _ can't." _

"I think we should split up," Violet said. "Klaus, you go that way, I'll take Sunny this way. We can catch him. We can."

"No," Klaus said quietly. "We can't. Violet, this is hopeless, we'll never be able to."

"Jian!" Sunny cried.

"Sunny's right, Klaus. We can try. If we don't try and we could have caught him-" Violet started.

"Alright. Alright, let's do it. Violet, could you invent something?" Klaus asked.

The oldest Baudelaire reached into her pocket and pulled out her ribbon, but she hesitated. "There's no time to. We'd better just go."

You could view this as a metaphor, although it is my opinion that metaphors are also overused, for the fact that the Baudelaires could not save themselves, or you could view it as a simple coincidence. I have no right, of course, to tell you what to think.

Klaus nodded at his sister. "I'll go left. You and Sunny go right." And so the three Baudelaires parted ways.

But a labyrinth is a hard place to find something or someone who has been lost, and their efforts would turn out to be for nothing at all.

They searched for what seemed like a very long while, and eventually they met in the middle of the labyrinth, with nothing to show for all their work.

"It's a dead end," Klaus growled.

"That's impossible. We can retrace our steps," Violet said, determined. "We have to fix this."

"What is the point of trying, Violet?" Klaus asked miserably. "It's all wrong. There are some things that we can't fix, no matter how good at inventing or researching or biting we are. Olaf escaped. Uncle Monty is dead."

"I miss him," Violet said quietly.

"Dou," Sunny comforted, meaning "We all do."

Saying goodbye is always hard, especially if you are saying it to a person who you loved very much, and even more so if that person is dead. And so the siblings took a moment, to remember Uncle Monty and everything that he had done, and say goodbye in their hearts to the kind man who had taken them in.

Klaus was the first to snap out of this daze, because he had suddenly remembered something very important, such as the fact that one is in a country going through a deadly pandemic and you must wear a mask when you are going out. He took a piece of crumpled paper out of his pocket and opened it, smoothing out the creases.

"Klaus, what is that?" Violet asked hesitantly.

"It's Uncle Monty's handwriting," Klaus told his sisters. "He copied it down during the movie. I saw him."

Violet and Sunny moved closer to Klaus in order to read the note.  _ Hello Monty. Danger. Take the children to Peru on the SS Prospero. _

"Dan!" Sunny exclaimed.  _ But we were right next to him! We would have seen it! _

"Not if he had some secret way to receive it," Klaus mused. "Violet, do you remember that strange object I found in the fire?"

"The one with the strange etchings? The one that seemed like part of Uncle Monty's spyglass? Do you have it?"

Klaus reached into his pocket- and stopped. "It- it's gone-"

"Olaf must have taken it," Violet said softly. "Oh, Klaus, what are we going to do?"

Klaus opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Sunny asking, "Weiren dong?"

"What? Sunny, what do you mean- wait, why  _ is  _ the statue moving?" He asked instead. They'd noticed it from the house- a golden woman in a grey dress, holding something that looked familiar. The spyglass, they could see now. And it was, indeed, moving, the pedestal rotating, and the woman was stepping down as well.

There are many things that I could say about this woman; about how she carried herself with a steady air of confidence and elegance and grace, perhaps, the way only politicians, assassins or daughters-and-heirs of Duchesses of Winnipeg trained in etiquette since the age of three can. Or maybe I could speak about how she always managed to keep her hair perfectly curled, even during the worst of times. But if I had to sum her up in one word, a phrase which here means "fit all her quirks and affections in a single string of letters", I would call her  _ willing.  _ Willing to do what she had to, for the good of others, willing to sacrifice herself to save someone else's life.

She was willing to sacrifice her life to remove Count Olaf from the lives of the three Baudelaire orphans, and I will never be able to repay her for saving the children of the two I loved, the children who could have been mine.

As was her wont, for she  _ was  _ a dramatic person at heart, though she suppressed it, she started the conversation with a cryptic line. "A good labyrinth is full of secrets. Hello, Baudelaires."

"Who- who are you?" Violet asked.

"Why are you dressed like a statue?" Klaus added.

"Dianshi? Yan?" Sunny asked, which here means "Are you not that woman from the strange zombie movie? And also the woman who was at the play where Olaf tried to marry my sister?"

"You can call me R," the statue-woman said. "Jacquelyn Scieszka is my name, otherwise. Yes, I am the lady from the movies. You did see me after the play Olaf put on."

Klaus frowned. "Wait… you're Mr Poe's secretary, aren't you? Jacquelyn."

"It is more of a volunteer position, I would say," R told them. "I'm sorry I arrived too late to help your uncle, Baudelaires. But I can still bring Olaf to justice."

She smiled slightly at the three siblings, a smile that was small but warm, and gave them a half-salute with her spyglass. "We  _ will _ make the world quiet."

"Uncle Monty had a spyglass like that," Violet murmured.

"What was he trying to  _ tell _ us?" Klaus burst out. "What's in Peru?"

"Forget Peru. It's been compromised," R said.

"Who sent him the message?" Violet asked.

"Shei?" Sunny shrieked.  _ Who were we supposed to meet there? _

"I know that you have a great many questions," R replied calmly. "And I assure you that there are a great many answers. But now is not the time. Go to your Aunt Josephine. She is a fierce and formidable woman, and you will be safe with her until Olaf is brought to justice."

"You swear it? That we'll be taught about… whatever this is?" Klaus asked.

"You will be told everything you need to know in time. Let me handle Olaf, Baudelaires. You deserve some peace," R said.

"Everything. Not just what we need to know," Violet told her. "All of it.  _ All  _ of it."

It was an admirable sentiment, that Violet Baudelaire had; the desire for truth. But as I learned the hard way when I was but an apprentice, as R said...

"The truth is a dangerous thing, Violet Baudelaire," my old friend told her, eyes tired and too old for her age. "But I will try. That, at least, I can promise you."

"Xie," whispered Sunny.

"What our sister means is-" Klaus began.

R was looking at Sunny with a vaguely wistful expression on her face as she spoke. "Thank you."

Violet and Klaus Baudelaire exchanged a confused and curious look, the sort of look that only siblings who are close can truly share, and Klaus asked, "How can you understand her?"

"I was friends with your parents, Violet and Klaus. You spoke the same as Sunny does now, when you were young; I learned," R replied.

I am told that there was the sort of look in her eyes that radiates sadness, at that moment. A sort of melancholy that only comes with the loss of someone that you love very much. It was the look that was in the eyes of my siblings, when they spoke of our parents. It was the look that was in the eyes of a certain girl with triangle-shaped glasses, when she spoke of her brother, and it is the look that is always in my eyes.

The Baudelaires felt very sorry for her indeed, when they saw her look like this, but they were much more concerned about something else.

"You knew our parents?" Violet whispered.

"I did," she confirmed. "We were good friends, and I miss them very much." She bowed her head. "There is no time to waste, children. I must leave. Go to your Aunt Josephine and I will find you."

And then she was whisking away through the hedges, leaving Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire with far more questions than they had had before.

"Well," said Violet.

"Well," said Klaus.

"Shen?" Asked Sunny, meaning "What shall we do now?"

"Find our Aunt Josephine, I suppose," Klaus replied dazedly. 

"Can we trust her? R? Jacquelyn Scieszka?" Violet wondered. "She certainly seems trustworthy, but…"

"Ming," offered Sunny.  _ She understood me, and gave a very good reason for being able to. _

"That  _ is  _ true," Violet admitted.

"What choice do we have?" Klaus whispered. 

There is always a choice, and I am pleased to tell you that the Baudelaires made the right one.

"Well, then," Violet said to her siblings. "I suppose we'll have to tell Mr. Poe to send us to Aunt Josephine."

"He won't listen," Klaus warned.

"Bi!" Sunny cried.  _ We will make him listen.  _

The Baudelaires might have lost their home, and their parents, and their Uncle Monty, and their home again, but they still had each other.

And so they walked out of the labyrinth together, ready to face whatever the world had to throw at them.

They had each other, and perhaps that was enough.

* * *

Now, I am afraid, I have to use a tiresome plot device known as a  _ point-of-view switch,  _ or P-O-V switch, I have heard. There is, of course, nothing wrong with doing so; but it is rather a cliché.

But I will use it anyway, for I am sure you would like to hear this tale.

R had seen a figure coming into the labyrinth, just as the Baudelaires caught sight of him; of course, this was Count Olaf. She had been tracking him for a while when three things happened, all at once. Olaf escaped into a tunnel beneath a trapdoor, the Baudelaires entered the middle of the labyrinth, and R started to descend from her pedestal. She proceeded to speak with the Baudelaires, as I have detailed above.

Once they had finished their discussion, she started to make her way through the labyrinth.

Another thing about R that I must note is that she had an extraordinary sense of direction, as she once exhibited while rescuing my loves Beatrice and Bertrand from a strangely mutated bull, and she put it to good use. It is hard to go through a labyrinth, even if you have studied it extensively beforehand, but R managed to do it.

I do not know exactly the details of how she achieved this, but I like to think that the secret to her success was that she was not scared. Once you let go of your fear, you can do many things indeed. And R always was fearless, in the time that I knew her.

She navigated her way to the trapdoor Olaf had disappeared down, in time, and she shed the metallic grey dress she had been using as a disguise methodically, leaving her in a dark suit of leather.

She glared down the trapdoor before climbing in.

"I will find you, Olaf," she muttered. "And you will  _ pay _ ."

And she descended into the dark.

The tunnels under Monty Montgomery's house are as familiar to me as any place; I used them countless times escaping from enemies who wished to capture or murder or capture,  _ then  _ murder me, including the leader of a cult devoted to unicorns and an overzealous English teacher trying to correct my grammar. I know each and every corner and turn. 

R knew them even better, and she knew the message that had been sent to Monty. Which was why she knew exactly where to go.

Right, left, right, straight, right, straight, left, left, straight, right, right, left, right, straight, right, straight, left, left, straight, straight, left, straight, right, right, straight, left, left, straight, right, straight, straight, left, left, left, right, straight, right, left, right, straight, right, straight, left, left, straight, right, right, left, right, straight, right, straight, left, left, straight, straight, left, straight, right, right, straight, left, left, left, left, straight, right, right, left, right, left, straight, straight, left, straight, right, straight, left, right, left, left, right, left, straight, right, straight, left, straight, left, right, straight, left, straight, right, straight, left, left, right, left, right-

I shall not bore you, for this is a happy tale, and I really do want you, dear reader, to read it.

To cut a long story short, as they say, although that was not really a story at all, R was headed to Daedalus Dock and the SS Prospero.

The ship that Olaf was escaping on. 

The tunnels were small, and dark, and full of spiders specially trained to keep intruders out. R was not an intruder by any means; but she still hurried along. The tunnels were not a pleasant place to be, by any means, and if you are afflicted with something called "arachnophobia", a phrase which here means "a haunting, terrible, horrific fear of spiders due to an unfortunate and traumatic experience involving them in the past", as she was, you will surely understand why she ran through the secret passages like some sort of monster was at her heels.

Perhaps there  _ was,  _ in a sense. 

But R, as I have said before, was always fearless, and she did not let this daunt her.

And so she went on.

After a relatively long period of time, she emerged into the sunset. Well, not  _ literally  _ into the sun; rather, she emerged into Daedalus Dock during the sunset. Just in time to see the SS Prospero getting ready to sail away.

Olaf was going to escape.

Unless she stopped him.

"Oh  _ no  _ you don't," she muttered, and proceeded to sneak over to the side of the ship, break a window, and climb in.

Breaking into someplace, be it a house, ship, or giant underground bunker, is usually morally reprehensible; but in the pursuit of Olaf, R felt it completely justified, as do I. But as a little bit of a disclaimer, as they say, lest I get sued multiple times for encouraging criminal behaviour on top of all the fake charges leveled against me, I must advise you not to follow her example. 

R wandered through the halls of the SS Prospero for a time before she came upon a concierge. "Excuse me, sir, might you know the room number of a Mr. Count Olaf?" She asked politely. "I have a  _ delivery _ to make."

The concierge eyed her rather suspiciously. "Why are you covered in bronze paint?" He asked.

R smiled charmingly. "A little accident with a painter. Now, could you please direct me to Mr. Count Olaf?"

The concierge nodded sympathetically, clearly believing her lie (which was rather idiotic). "I've been in situations like that myself. I believe there's a Count Olaf in room 170."

R nodded back, and slipped away.

It is at this point that I feel I must truly warn you, some things that R did in the pursuit of Count Olaf's capture are not very moral at all. Some might even call her acts downright despicable.

I must ask you, the reader, a question. Is it right to do immoral things in the pursuit of a moral goal?

Is it ever justifiable, to do something immoral?

I do not know the answer, and I doubt I ever will, for it is hard to think of such things. If this moral dilemma upsets you like it does me, this story may not be for you at all.

If you feel that doing bad things is always, always wrong, I implore you to stop reading immediately. You have been warned.

Very well, then.

R was a woman of a great many secrets, secrets kept and secrets learned and secrets stolen, and on this occasion she used one of the secrets that she had stolen before- the knowledge of the secret passages in the SS Prospero. The passages, at least, were better than the VFD secret tunnels.

And then she was in front of the door marked "170". Hastily putting on an accent, she called, "Telegram for a Mr. Count Olaf?"

(She knew his title, of course, but Olaf was a very infuriating person and I am sure many of you would do the same.)

"It's just Count Olaf.  _ Count  _ is my honorific. Calling me 'Mr.' is not only redundant, but an insult to my station!" A muffled voice called, and the door swung open. For a moment Olaf, standing in the doorway, looked surprised, before his lips curled into a menacing smile. "Well, we meet again. You might want to ease up on the bronzer."

"I do hope you don't think you're going to Peru," R hissed. " _ Yessica Haircut." _

Olaf laughed, seemingly at ease. "I find it useful to leave the country now and then. You should try it, you know. Works wonders. See some ruins, wait for the manhunt to die down… eat some cuy."

"You won't be eating any cuy, unless it's served in a prison cafeteria."

"And why would I be eating in a prison cafeteria?"

"Because I'm taking you to  _ prison,"  _ R said. "I thought you were smarter than that, O."

Olaf scoffed. "First of all, I am plenty smart. Second of all… good luck with that. I'm armed."

My old friend was unfazed.

"Hm. So am I," she said, and drew her knife, pressing it to Olaf's throat, just enough to draw a speck of blood.

"Hm. Child's play," Olaf scoffed, taking out a machete and pressing back.

They had backed into the room by then, each staring the other down. It was dramatic. But what else could you expect from VFD?

" _ Adorable,"  _ R laughed, and shoved a harpoon gun into Olaf's face.

"Is that a  _ harpoon gun?" _ Olaf yelped. "You'll never use it. One of your  _ great gifts  _ is your  _ eminent compassion.  _ Well, I call it being soft, but whatever suits you. You wouldn't squash a  _ spider." _

If you recall, my old friend suffered from a severe case of arachnophobia.

R looked Olaf in the eye, smiled, and lied through her teeth. 

"I  _ like  _ spiders."

Olaf grinned. "That's good, because there's one on your shoulder right now."

"I'm not falling for that," she said, and shoved the harpoon gun into his shoulder.

"What makes you think you can  _ stop  _ me?"

"I don't. But I  _ know  _ that I was _always_ meant to be the deus ex machina in this story. And I will never  _ stop  _ trying to stop you."

"Go to  _ hell,"  _ Olaf spat.

"I'll see you there, first," R replied; and she pulled the trigger.

Now, at this moment, two things happened that led to an unfortunate, or perhaps fortunate, depending on how you look at it, coincidence.

The harpoon flew straight to the place where Olaf's shoulder had been. And Olaf moved in the wrong direction.

The harpoon caught him straight in the heart.

He pressed his hand to his chest in surprise, or confusion, or pain. "Well," he gasped.

And then he fell.

He was dead before R could move.

She stared at him for a few seconds, minutes- who knew? Time passes differently when certain things happen, which is why it is always far too soon that I once again have to move as I run from my enemies, and it is always far too long before I have the chance to have a root beer float. 

She kneeled beside him and pressed her fingers to the open wound. When she lifted them, there was blood on her hands. Both figuratively and literally.

She took a shaky breath and reached out to close his eyes, leaving streaks of red over his eyelids.

Killing was not her way and it has never been. Oh, Jacquelyn. How my heart aches for her, so many days; she was younger than most of VFD but one of the most mature, efficient,  _ good,  _ forced to grow up too fast.

She had never killed before, as far as I know. 

"What have I  _ done?"  _ She whispered to herself. "What have we become?"

There is, again, no answer to this question. Killer, volunteer, hero. It is your choice. It always has been.

To me, R will always be first and foremost my friend, and second the saviour of my lovers' children. 

And maybe what she did was not right, but she gave the Baudelaires a chance to live a happy life.

I do not know what happened to her after that. Nor do I know what is happening to the Baudelaires, though soon I will be at Aunt Josephine's house to reveal myself to them, to take a chance, to  _ live  _ again.

Perhaps R is the deus ex machina of my story, as well.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> yes sunny's language is just mangled chinese 汉语拼音 but i thought it would be funny and also i was extremely sick of chinese


End file.
